


Midnight Chocolate

by Bawgdan



Category: Gangsta. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-10-01 16:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20334025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bawgdan/pseuds/Bawgdan
Summary: Women purposely leave things around the house to establish their position in your life. It means they don't intend on leaving anytime soon.





	Midnight Chocolate

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Alex is the giant elephant in the room between Worick and Nicolas. Their apartment stinks of woman, disrupting the strategic harmony they’d worked so hard to maintain over the years. Alex buys shower gel that smells like cheap lavender. Lotions with a poisonous candy scent— _Midnight Chocolate_. That's what the bottle on the table says in obnoxious cursive and golden glitter. Nicolas swipes it from the table, pops open the cap, sniffs it and gags. It smells so good that its disgusting. The sugary scent alone could give him a cavity.

She struts around the place with her nice legs, perfect nipples, and pert breasts, and Worick makes concerted efforts at flattering her. And Alex knows. That's the whole point in being a woman, _Nicolas reckons_. You know when you're ugly and you definitely know when you’re beautiful. Even if she doesn't act on vanity. She knows.

Alex lights candles that rid the place of that old cigarette smoke funk Worick and Nicolas had grown accustomed too. The ghost of her fingerprints are everywhere. Nicolas is always pulling long strands of her hair off his suit jacket. A tiny clump of red nail polish had dried on the end of the wooden kitchen table. Wedged between the couch cushions are a pair of her panties.

To keep himself focused, Nicolas avoids the apartment at all costs. Unlike Worick, he has a grip on his expectations and his lust. He sits down the bottle of _Midnight Chocolate_ and makes his way for the couch. The floor creaking under the weight of his shoes. Nicolas pinches the panties from the cushions, holds them up to examine the evidence that a woman infects this place. They are cotton and wholesome. So unlike the lingerie Worick had bought her. They must be new.

_On second thought_...Nicolas loses his self possession. He rubs his thumb against the modest trimming.** Really **holds the soft panties in his large beaten and bruised hands. He flips them over in his palm and observes the small red spot in the crotch. Nicolas gets a not-so-spontaneous rush of arousal. His penis stiffens. What an odd thing to get hard to, he’s aware. Self awareness sets him apart from Worick. He turns the panties inside-out and gives in to the impulse to smell them. Nicolas inhales unsteadily, grinding his teeth together. The briny mix of Alex and laundry detergent tickles down his throat. A thick growl escapes the tightness of his chest and he hardens. His stomach flutters like rocks skipping on top of water. 

Nicolas buries his nose against the dried stain of blood. It releases the tension he hasn't been dealing with. He exhales and feels ten pounds lighter. If the casual smell of a woman he’s not in love with turns his brain to putty, he can only imagine what the missing ingredient could do to his mental fortitude.

Intuition, _he relies on it a lot_, tells him to turn around. Most of the time, Nicolas is right about Alex's routine, but today he falls short. Alex isn't taking one of her corpse-like naps in Worick's room. She is standing in the bathroom doorway, shower steam and that erection inducing scent of lavender floats out with her. Alex gapes at him in Worick's too big T-shirt. Her hair drips wet ringlets around her cheeks. She forms a perfect 'O' with her mouth but says nothing he can understand.

Nicolas isn't a coward so he remains committed to his affectless demeanor. Doesn't flinch. Won't cringe. They stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. He lowers his hands to his side, balling her panties up in his right fist. His breathing is still ragged. 

Of course, Alex makes the first move. He can't read her face. Her expression is the same as it always is. Glassy eyed curiosity like she is rediscovering the world around her. The cloud of lavender follows her. As she nears him, her breasts move under the thick T-shirt. Water footprints behind her. She stands right under Nicolas. He doesn't recoil. Usually he does.

Alex apologizes. He reads her lips. The next thing she says he can't make out. Her lips move too fast and the eye contact they make is destructive. The speechlessness that follows, her lips forming into a straight line, is counter productive. Nicolas hands Alex her underwear. She doesn't take it. Instead, she decimates the few inches between them, looping her fingers around his belt buckle. 

Not once does she blink as she unfastens his leather belt. Like he has always suspected, Alex does know that she is beautiful. Watching her from a distance has proven counter productive. Time, honestly, has been the space between them. Nicolas can only breathe, uncurling his fingers in defeat. Her panties flutter to the floor. It has been a some time since he has last touched a woman. Let alone fucked one. 

His unresponsiveness puzzles Alex. After she unbuttons his pants, she stops and waits for his permission. Nicolas knows what he wants. He would very much like to get his dick wet. His own hesitation annoys the shit out of him. Maybe it has a lot to do with his track record? What if he nuts too fast? All these things float around in his dark head. He salivates and sweats. Slowly, but surely, his impassivity fades to unmistaken desire. Women have many facial expressions just like their words have multiple meanings. Men only have one. Maybe two when it comes to complicated situations like this. 

Alex takes his hands, guiding them under Worick's expensive cotton shirt. She spreads his fingers around her breasts. His thumbs brush against her hard, dime sized nipples, and then he makes a very easy decision. Nicolas leans down to kiss her top lip, squeezing her chest. He doesn't land it with precision, missing the middle of her mouth. Alex rights the mistake with wet butterfly kisses. She starts undoing his shirt. Nicolas moans like a man long out of practice when her palms caress his abdomen. He grips her thin wrist and glides her hand under his briefs. She sucks on his tongue with a disturbing amount of familiarity. He tries not to think about how many times she has done this.

Before he can catch his breathe, Alex is on her knees, dragging his pants and underwear down to his ankles. The apartment is muggy but a shocking wave of cool tickles the inside of his thighs. Alex slides her hot tongue along the shaft of his penis and he shudders, cupping his hands around her damp head. She takes all of him into her mouth, hauntingly sophisticated. She laments her resolve and the warm vibrations shoot from his groin straight to his throat.

Alex's mouth sails up and down his penis. Sometimes she stops, planting a series of methodical kisses around the base, on his balls. For most of it, she inhales him incredibly determined. He doesn't last long. Barely making it five minutes before he empties himself in the back of her mouth. She swallows all of his semen, pulling her lips away from the swollen pink head of his penis, severing a thin string of saliva.

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** _“Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.”~ Joan Didion_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing important. Just stepping outside of my comfort zone and trying to write smut. Thank you for reading. All errors I missed I will eventually clean up.


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